


The Rules of Engagement

by nhpw



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Misha, F/F, F/M, Grinding, Groping, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Partner Swapping, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Coital Cuddling, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5958418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ladies appear for a surprise visit in Vancouver. Misha's home early and game to play, but they hit an obstacle when they can't reach Jensen. What's with that, Jensen? Are you not answering your phone on purpose, or what?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rules of Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> In the words of the great Overlord Collins, this is pornography. Pure pornography. It stems from a Twitter convo lamenting the lack of swapped partners in Cockles/JMDV fic. I started writing about Misha and Danneel making out, and my brain went on from there. But yeah. Boil away that layer and it's just four-way smut, with a little bit of kink and devious fun thrown in at poor Misha's expense. It was fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it.

The ground rules said express permission of primary partners was required for anything more than kissing. Presence could be considered consent. Awareness of a planned scene could also be considered “blanket” consent.

Jensen was neither present nor aware, and that’s why they’d been making out for an hour.

Not that kissing Danneel was a  _ bad _ thing, and not that Misha was the kind of guy to hurry things along when they didn’t need hurrying. But he sure did wish they could reach Jensen right now, because his “yes” was the only thing missing from Misha exploring his friend’s beautiful wife more intimately.

He’d called; the call had gone straight to voicemail. He’d texted, to no avail. Danneel had done the same, with identical results. There was nothing to be done; the Winchesters were still hard at work, and Jensen likely wouldn’t get any of those messages until he finished for the day.

Misha had wrapped his day three hours prior. He’d shaken Lucifer and Castiel in makeup and wardrobe and driven home to find unexpected company waiting on his couch - not that he was complaining. Vicki and Danneel had ordered Chinese and were giggling over Kung Pao and a couple of beers when Misha walked through the door.

Coming home to a house full of beautiful people who loved him was Misha’s everything, and bonus points for the lack of ankle biters. That meant the girls had planned this, and it meant a rare night of unabated playtime for the foursome.

Misha would never say no to that.

He’d joined them in their meal, joked about the day on set, relayed a story about a particularly difficult scene that had taken Jensen eight takes just to get his lines right because Jared laughed every time he said “rainbow.” Then he’d settled on the couch between them, one arm slung behind each woman, their heads leaned across his chest on either side.

Vicki had kissed him first, with the confidence of a longtime lover; Danneel’s initial pecks had been more hesitant. They usually were.

“You should know better by now,” he’d growled against her mouth, “than to be afraid to show me affection.” And he’d taken control of the kiss, stealing her breath and uncertainties and guiding her back to lie flat across the couch and accept Misha's body weight on top of her.

They’d moved to the floor after a few minutes of long, lazy kisses, and Vicki had joined them but seemed content just to touch, and cuddle… the hormonal sober cab. Every single one of them needed it from time to time.

Vicki had been the voice of reason, shoving a cell phone into her husband’s face.

“Call him.”

But Jensen's unavailability left them here, stalled between first and second bases, and if they didn't reach him soon, Misha would need to cave and have his wife fuck him instead.

Danneel whined into his mouth, and the sound Misha made was strangled frustration. Danneel rolled them and took control of the kiss, grinding down on his straining erection, and that was it. He broke away, breathless, and stared up into her lust-blown pupils.

His lips parted on half-formed words he knew he needed to say but couldn’t force out.

And then his phone rang.

“Oh thank fuck.” He rolled his head back to watch Vicki stand and grab his phone - the woman had a beautiful ass, and  _ when had she taken off her pants, anyway _ ? - and answer it.

“You’re on speaker, J,” she announced without ceremony as she knelt next to the knot of limbs and flushed faces that made up Misha and Danneel. “Say hello to the group.”

“Everybody’s there, huh?” Jensen’s voice was heavy and still carried a tinge of Dean Winchester, and in his lust-driven state, Misha could only think that what he really wanted to do was help Jensen relax… with a blowjob.

“You’re missing one hell of a surprise party,” Misha confirmed. “How fast can you be at my place?”

“Uhhh…” There was a pause and a bit of shuffling, and then the audible slam of a trailer door. “I just wrapped. Give me…” they could all hear the snow crunching under his feet as he hurried from one heated space to another. “Fuck, it’s cold. Give me… give me fifteen in makeup, then I’ll call you back.”

“But Baby I--”

The line went dead before Danneel could finish her sentence.

When she cast sad eyes and a pout down at Misha, he raised his eyebrows back up at her. “Your husband is a horrible human being.”

She let a few fake sobs escape before leaning down for more kisses, exploring as much as she dared with her hands - but they’d been partners long enough by now that it didn’t take much. She knew his vulnerabilities, and as she started nipping at his earlobe, Misha dissolved into a puddle underneath Danneel’s ministrations.

And then she stopped.

She just…  _ stopped _ . And she sat up, and smirked down at him, biting her bottom lip mischievously.

“Don’t play coy,” he growled, but then Vicki was there, nestling his head between her thighs and leaning in right over his line of vision to meet Dani’s mouth with her own. He tried to reach out - for what, he wasn’t sure, but just to take purchase of something in his hands - and found himself cut off by his own bride. She grasped both of his wrists in her hands and pinned them under his head, rendering him motionless and essentially helpless as well.

“You,” Vicki imparted with raised eyebrows, “are not in charge here.”

Misha could only whimper in response. He’d been hard so long he was aching, and although he couldn’t see it, he was pretty sure he’d drooled enough precum to wet through the front of his jeans.

“Misha, that’s  _ enough _ .” Danneel’s tone was absolutely patronizing, the way she said his name - a far cry from the woman who’d been moaning into his mouth just minutes before. She also shot him a raised-eyebrows look over Vicki’s shoulder as she asked, “Can you be trusted to watch quietly, or do we need to gag you?”

“I’ll be good,” he managed, but he had to close his eyes and draw a couple of deep breaths with extreme focus on his own exhales before he was calm enough to open his eyes again.

Vicki positioned herself on her husband’s chest, facing away from him; Danneel sat on his pelvis just north of prime grinding territory, facing the other woman. And Misha could do nothing but quietly whimper and wait his turn as the two women made out on top of him. Their moans seemed exaggerated, he thought, and that was probably for his benefit (or torture - he couldn’t be sure. It was a fine line tonight.)

Then Vicki giggled conspiratorially and leaned forward to whisper something in Danneel’s ear, which caused her to giggle darkly in return before she scooted back and adjusted until Misha’s clothed erection was settled firmly between her own asscheeks.

“You are not playing fair!” The last word of Misha’s admonishment came out as a whine - fa-ai-ai-air - and both women laughed again before bringing their lips back together.

“Playing by the rules, Mish,” Vicki managed breathlessly. “It’s up to Jensen to save you. Sure hope he calls soon.” But she didn’t really sound sympathetic.

It was the longest eternity of Misha’s life, and he died a thousand tiny deaths before, mercifully, his phone was ringing and Vicki dismounted to grab it from the couch. “Speaker,” Vicki announced by way of greeting as she settled back into her perch straddling her husband’s chest.

“I’m on my way. What’s going on over there?”

“Well.” Vicki glanced over her shoulder at Misha. “Misha is being held for ransom by a couple of dead-sexy ladies, and you, Mr. Ackles, are the  _ only  _ one who can save him.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it gonna cost me?” Jensen sounded dubious, but also curious, and Misha rolled his eyes, hoping the other man would take the bait - whatever it was that was being baited, because Misha sure as shit had no idea - because he really had no other options for a rescue or a release.

“For starters, I want permission to go to second base…” Danneel craned her neck to peer over Vicki’s shoulder at Misha, who was looking at her hopefully - until she slid a devious smile into place. “With Vicki.”

“Not Misha?”

“He’s busy.”

“ _ I am not--! _ ”

“Shut up, Handsome.” Jensen’s only audible response to Vicki’s admonishment was a chuckle. “And when you get here, he’ll suddenly be unbusy, and you’re going to blow him. Because that’s the only way he’s getting off tonight, and the poor guy’s been hard for nigh on 90 minutes now.”

“You planned this.”

“We plan all sorts of things, Jen. Get used to it.” Vicki’s response was accompanied by a playful squeeze to Dani’s right breast, which made her giggle in return. “So. Permission?”

“Granted. But please don’t kill Misha. I think the fans would be pissed if he had a sex-related heart attack.”

“What’s your ETA?”

“Ten minutes.”

“See you then.” Vicki hung up and tossed the phone back to a resting place on the abandoned couch a split second before she dug into Dani - headed kisses, licks, hands wandering up the shirt and then removing it, followed quickly by her bra.

Misha threw his head back and closed his eyes. He bucked his hips, but it did no good. So he just let out a long, slow breath and thought to himself… _Pedal to the metal, Jensen. Please._ _You’re my only hope._

***

Jensen stopped cold with one foot inside Misha’s house and the door still hanging open.

Surely he had died and gone to some sort of erotic heaven.

As much as he’d raced to get here, now he approached with slow, steady caution, observing as he walked. Danneel was suckling at Vicki’s left nipple while she squeezed the right breast; Vicki had her back arched into the assault and was moaning musically. Both were nude.

And they were sitting, facing one another, on top of a still fully-clothed Misha Collins.

“Misha?” Jensen managed, because clearly the ladies were occupied and were possibly completely unaware of his presence.

“You gotta help me.” Misha sounded as wrecked as he looked. “It was an ambush.”

“Well, clearly.” Jensen smirked and the look in his eyes faded from friendly to lustful in the space of a heartbeat. He kicked off his shoes, stripped off his shirt and shook himself down to his boxers, and then stretched out next to Misha on the floor to greet him with a deep, searching kiss. Misha lost himself in it eagerly. His brain had shut down long ago; what he needed right now was friction, and touch, and warmth and wet and release and feeling. He needed feeling. He needed this kiss, Jensen’s tongue, his mouth, his hands combing Misha’s hair, playing with his earlobe. He needed--

And then it was gone. Misha moaned and whined at the emptiness and opened his eyes to cast a forlorn look at Jensen as the other man backed up to the couch and sat down with a self-satisfied smirk.

Misha’s brain was so foggy it took a full minute to catch up. “You. Fuckers.”

At that, the girls erupted in giggles on top of him, wiggling and squirming and making him moan for no reason other than that they  _ could _ .

Jensen cleared his throat, then stood just to remove his boxers, the smirk never leaving his face. He sat down, eyes glued unblinking to Misha’s as he took himself in hand and started to stroke.

“Aww… you… all of you just…  _ fuuuuck _ .”

“Oh, we will.” Jensen let out a low chuckle. “Or... they will.”

“And you will too, if you behave,” Vicki advised. “What Dani said is true. You can cum when Jensen blows you. He’s just… not in any hurry.”

“I worked all fuckin’ day,” Jensen explained. “Christ almighty. You had, what, two scenes today? And you just want me to roll right over and give you a blow job and rescue you from this fantastic torture? Oh fuck no. Im’ma get a beer, and watch some live-action porn.” He wiggled his eyebrows twice at Misha before he stood, went to the fridge, retrieved his beverage of choice, popped it open and sat back down on the couch. “There. Now. Beer in one hand, dick in the other. I’m just a regular ol’ red-blooded American male, right?”

“Right.” Misha gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. He whined and bucked his hips, only to receive a smack of admonishment to his left knee from Danneel.

“Stop that. It’s distracting,” she said, even as she tilted Vicki’s chin back up to resume deep kisses on her mouth. “Though… I think,” she murmured into the kiss, and gave an experimental roll of her own hips, “I could get off like this.” She rolled her hips again and Vicki went back to the younger woman’s right breast. “Oh… fuck yeah I could.”

“You cool with that, J?” Vicki tossed a sidelong glance at Jensen and instinctively Misha’s eyes went there, too.

And damn if Jensen didn’t lock eyes with Misha and no one else as he gave himself a long, slow stroke, ran a thumb over his own leaking cockhead and said, “Get my wife off, and you can have your reward.”

“But I can’t move!”

“Not really my problem.”

“When I can think with my upstairs brain again, you are  _ so _ going to pay for this.”

Jensen’s only response was to fist himself tighter and take another pull of his beer, and that snapped the beast awake in Misha - like he’d been asked to rise to a challenge. And Misha Collins never ever  _ ever _ turned down a challenge.

He canted his hips back and forth rather than up and down, sending the length of his clothed erection, along with the seam at the fly of his jeans, right up and down Danneel’s slit and bringing her to a shiver.

“Now we’re talkin’, Mish. There you go. Hmmmm…” Dani threw her head back and Vicki took advantage, licking and sucking at the younger woman’s collarbone. She held Danneel steady against her own chest as the moment started to break and Dani lost her composure, rocking in time with Misha, moaning at the ceiling as Vicki continued to suck and lick at the vulnerable spots on her neck.

“So hot,” Vicki panted, and Misha was vaguely aware that Dani’s hand had come between them to finger his wife and fuck, that was fine, that was totally fine because when the girls moaned together it echoed off the walls like an angel’s chorus. This time was no different. The sound filled Misha’s ears and his brain and sent him to a place where his own pleasure was second to that of the women on top of him. Somehow, he was suddenly numb to the discomfort of his prolonged erection and only cared about the slide and grind of Dani against his hardness for her own pleasure, and the pleasure she was providing his wife with her masterful fingers. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“You’re whimpering. You’re close,” Misha breathed in response to his wife’s cries. “Let go, Vick. Just let go.”

She did, and Danneel did, and they cried out together and Misha could only ride the waves from beneath them until mercifully they both moved away to one side - stretched out on either side of Misha, meeting over his chest in a final, relaxed kiss. And Vicki, mercifully, moved her hand down to undo the button and zipper of Misha’s pants.

Dani pulled him out, stroking his length once, which caused him to cry out and buck his hips erratically. “You’re so close. Won’t take much,” Dani advised, turning her head to peer at her own husband, who was still on the couch but had abandoned his beer, now lost in some combination of his own pleasure and that of the threesome on the floor. She ducked down and gave the head of Misha’s cock a kiss, then a swath of her tongue.

“Shit--fuck--Dani--” Misha hissed, bucking again. He clenched his fists at his sides because -- really, she wasn’t wrong. Nearly two hours of teasing had him right on the edge.

She grinned up at him and leaned down a bit further to give each of his testicles a single suck, one at a time, leaving him a ravaged mess. “Shirt off,” she prompted, and Vicki was at his trunk, pulling the last item of clothing out of the way. Then Dani sat at his head, which she cradled in her lap, and watched as Jensen came to join them on the floor.

Jensen approached with mild trepidation. In truth they didn’t end up like this much - Jensen didn’t really enjoy it and thus didn’t spend much time on the “giving” end of a blowjob. It was far more likely for Misha to be the one on his knees because… well, because he  _ did _ enjoy it, and usually didn’t take much prompting to give oral sex to Jensen.

But when Jensen  _ did _ suck Misha off, he did it like he did everything else in his life: With dedication, and his mind on the goal. So when his mouth closed around Misha’s aching erection, the older man let out an inhuman moan from somewhere at the bottom of rib cage, and Dani leaned down to kiss his forehead at that. “I know he’s got a talented tongue,” she whispered, and that made Misha pop his eyes open to meet her gaze. She cradled his chin lovingly and smiled as she bent over to kiss his mouth, full of passion, like they’d been doing hours ago. “I like watching him give you head, Mish. Wish he’d do it more often.”

“Mmmmrrgh,” was all Misha could manage.

“You too, huh?”

He tried for words, but there weren’t any, so he just nodded and licked his lips.

“I want to watch your face when you cum.” All this time, she kept his head tilted up to look at her face and didn’t speak any louder than a whisper. He couldn’t be certain where his own wife was, but Jensen was making some sounds around his cock and he wondered if Vicki might be responsible for that. “Wanna see what sunshine looks like up close.” Her sweet smile was a direct contrast to the kink in the room, and her words rolled like honey off her tongue and onto his. He swallowed her kisses; she swallowed his moans. “Go on, Mishka. Cum for us.”

Someone’s stray hand pinched his left nipple, and it was game over.

***

Post-coital cuddling varied from occasion to occasion. This time, Jensen climbed up Misha to kiss Danneel - their first kiss all night, Misha realized belatedly - before settling in on Misha’s left side. Danneel spooned around behind her husband, and Vicki flanked Misha’s other side. It was a favorite, really; a way for all parties to reconnect with their primaries after some swapping, while maintaining contact across the board.

Misha sighed and leaned in to kiss his wife, then Jensen. Then he smiled and rolled onto his belly. He’d spent enough time on his back tonight, he reasoned, and he wasn’t as young as he used to be. No doubt all that lying on the floor, combined with the weight of the girls on his torso, would hurt in the morning.

But that… was morning. Right now he was sated and content, laying in a cuddle pile in its purest form. Right now he was surrounded by love.

“We really are the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet, you know,” Jensen stated on a yawn and a stretch of his arms over his head.

“Oh, I know. I surely do know.” He met Jensen’s eyes with a mischievous twinkle in his own. “So how far ahead of time did you know about this?”

“Like two days.” Jensen shrugged innocently against the carpet.

“Ah.” Misha just nodded in response, but that twinkle didn’t leave his eyes.

“Ah? What ‘ah’? Don’t say ‘ah.’ That was a bad ‘ah.’ Vicki? Tell him not to look at me like that and say, ‘Ah.’”

“Misha, be nice.” But her words held none of the authority they had not a half-hour prior; she was fading fast. “He has a talented tongue. Don’t make him mad or he might stop using it on us.”

“True, true. Hmmm.” Misha reached out to drum his fingers absently on the carpet. “Dani?”

“Yeah Mish?”

“OK if I give him blue balls tomorrow? I mean. He sort of has it coming.”

“Hey, now, wait--”

“You do as you see fit, Mish. You would need consent from both Vicki and I to get him off, after all. It’d be a shame if we just couldn’t be reached.”

“I’m gonna--”

“I want pictures.” Danneel giggled at Vicki’s comment, which encouraged Vicki to laugh harder, which sent Danneel into a laughing fit so deep that her laughter was coming out in silent gasps for air.

“Instagram!”

“Twitter! Oh! _Totally_ Twitter.”

“I’m gonna kill all of you, I swear to God.” Jensen flopped an arm over his own face as his partners lost themselves in their hysteria. Then, after a few moments of shaking his head, he got up to retrieve a king-size comforter from where he knew Misha kept one for just such an occasion - top shelf of the hall linen closet. He brought it back to the living room and draped it over the gigglestorm before settling back into his chosen spot between Misha and his wife.

At the weight and warmth, the giggles began to subside, and then there were gentle touches all around, soft kisses, nose touches, and contented sounds.

Misha was the last to fall asleep, but when he did, he did so with a smile on his face.


End file.
